Angel of Death (Rewrite)
by crystal2240
Summary: Self-Insert! An assassin from the real world dies and merges with another version of herself in a completely different universe. Katekyo Hitman Reborn. It turns out that the "her" in this new world is actually Reborn's biological daughter. One who he has no idea even exists (one night stands tend to leave people unaware).
1. The Beginning

**Chapter One: The Beginning**

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**_Disclaimer:_** _I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn._

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**The Beginning**

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_In our world:_

_Drip...Drip...Drip..._

So this was how it ended?

_Drip...Drip..._

Lying on the cold cement floor as she helplessly bled to death?

_Drip...Drip..._

Damn. She had wanted to go out with a bang, not die like some nobody.

_Drip...Drip... _

The woman, Sarah—although that particular name hadn't been used in a very, very long time—laughed.

For six years, she had been the untouchable **_Angel of Death_**. A high class assassin known for her quick and "merciful" kills. Yet here she was…dying because of a rookie mistake.

_"Never leave your back open."_ And Sarah had gone and done just that.

_Drip..._

As the twenty-nine year old's heavy eyes closed from lack of strength, her breathing slowing, and her shallow breaths stopping; one last thought crossed her mind: _I should have taken the plastic bitch that shot me from behind_ with me_. Fuck._

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**~O~**

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_In another world..._

Persephone De La Rose. A fourteen year old who was only starting out in the mafia. Who had already begun making a name for herself after a measly two years in the criminal underworld.

Who knew, due to an attack by a minor mafioso when she was barely age six—of which she had only narrowly escaped (though not unscathed) by complete luck and his underestimating of her—that she wasn't as alone as she had originally believed. That she wasn't really an _orphan_.

Her father, according to the curses and words that the man who had tried to murder her had screamed, was Reborn, The World's Greatest Hitman.

Her six year old self hadn't been sure of what to make of it at the time.

She knew, logically, that a hitman was suppose to be "bad", but she couldn't bring herself to imagine her father as anything but perfect whenever she dreamed about him.

Persephone also knew that such a profession could be the reason why he hadn't wanted her with him, and she resented him slightly for it, but a large part of her—the foolish part—still yearned to meet him. Just once.

It was only when she was eight and snooping through the head matron's office that the raven-haired girl was met by several shattering revelations.

The documents she had found stated that her mother, Ana De La Rose, had died in childbirth (something that the caretakers had neglected to mention to her), and that her father hadn't been registered on her birth certificate... along with several written comments from the nurses and doctors who had attended to her pregnant mother at the time, that her mother had not actually_ known_ who her child's father was.

It was a one night stand, Ana had told them.

The eight year old was once again thrown for a loop.

If those papers were legit (and she saw no gain in faking such things) then that meant that her father most likely hadn't even known he had impregnated her mother, and _that_ meant that he was also unaware of _her. _His daughter.

Hope blossomed in her chest and Persephone soon became obsessed with the idea of her male parent.

Even at eight, she was a smart girl, and she easily deduced that she most likely resembled her father greatly if the way she was attacked by coincidence (the man's words of how he had connected her to Reborn, right before he had attacked her led her to this conclusion) was any indication.

Altering and hiding her appearance as best as she could, Persephone recklessly ran away at the age of twelve, and dove head-first into the one place she knew held a connection to her dad. The mafia.

After all, he was suppose to be The World's greatest Hitman, wasn't he?

The raven-haired girl slowly worked her way up, starting from the bottom of the barrel, and was relieved and somewhat disgusted to find that there were jobs for a twelve year old like herself (pedophiles were her main mission targets since they were the only ones she currently held an advantage over).

The pre-teen spent her time in the mafia gaining experience and gathering whatever scraps of information she could about the man who she presumed to be her father.

It was only pure luck that she had managed to swipe a blood sample from a cleanup squad she sometimes worked part-time with, that ended up confirming her beliefs.

A perfect match. Reborn was really her biological father.

...

A week after she turned fourteen, something strange happened. She (quite literally) became a different person in her sleep.

And her flames had finally awakened.

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**~O~**

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_The merging…_

It was indescribable; this feeling of warmth and confusion, of coldness and knowledge.

Sarah knew exactly what was happening to her...yet at the same time, she was left completely clueless.

Persephone De La Rose. Sara Cunningham. Two different women, two different ages, experiences, and thought processes, from two different worlds.

It was like finding a missing link that they hadn't even been aware was missing. A version of themselves that wasn't them at all, but shared the same soul.

And as the two merged, their beings shifting to accommodate each other, entwining until they were whole, until one couldn't tell where the other started or where they ended—the winds of fate blew through a universe that the elder of the souls had previously believed to be an anime, and the younger, where she wasn't suppose to exist at all.

And thus begins the true story of the sun acrobaleno's daughter.

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**Author's Note:**

If you've read my original "Angel of Death" then you know that I tanked the idea of reincarnation. It's too slow of a plot for me, and I'm sure the ones who don't want to read about my SI reliving baby years, agree with me.

I've decided to take a leaf out of another SI story I've recently read, and have my characters "merge" with each other.

For those of you who are confused, Sarah is dying in the beginning, and her soul travels to another world to "merge" with another version of herself in that particular world. Which happens to be Persephone, Reborn's daughter.

I know some of you are wondering why they're kind of different from each other if they're supposed to be the same soul. The answer is simple. Different circumstances. People are shaped by their experiences; they're not automatically born with a set personality.

*****Any comments or criticism will be appreciated. Also, if there is any confusion you might want me to clear up, just add it onto your review or PM me. *


	2. Reputation

**Chapter Two: Reputation**

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**_Disclaimer:_**_I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn_

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**Reputation**

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_Outcome of their merging..._

Despite having the same soul, they were too different to merge properly. Neither was in tune with the other.

So in the end, it came down to a battle of wills. A fight for the right to be the dominant personality.

Persephone vs. Sarah.

Fourteen against twenty-nine.

In the end...Persephone was the one who emerged victorious.

Sarah may have been older and more experienced, but this was Persephone's world. _She_ was the original owner of her body. And she'd be damned before she let some other version of herself kick her out of it.

However, the pre-teen hadn't come out unscathed. Sarah's memories and some of her more paranoid habits had forcibly integrated themselves onto her psyche, and though it wasn't painful per say, it was slightly difficult to keep her own memories and the blonde woman's (Sarah's) separate.

Sometimes, Persephone found herself mistaking the wrong places for shops that only existed in the other world's—Sarah's world's—Sicily.

It was annoying, and frankly, scary.

One of her only consolations was that her other self's memories had allowed her to see her father—to observe his personality and character (albeit from a computer screen).

It also gave her potential knowledge of the future. Although how accurate, and if that knowledge would come to pass, was anyone's guess.

After all, the fourteen year old hadn't seen _herself _in any of the "Katekyo Hitman Reborn" episodes.

She could only assume that the her in the "anime" was either killed before she could meet Reborn, had never sought him out, or had only met him in the late future (the one created after Tsuna had defeated Byakuran).

Of course, by that same logic, she could also assume that the "anime" was a completely different universe. One where she hadn't existed at all.

…..

So maybe "potential knowledge of the future" weren't the right words. It didn't mean that Sarah's memories were useless though. From her other self, Persephone had gotten several insights on the Mafioso's who had been present in the "anime", and _that_, gave her a distinct advantage.

Not to mention that the new habits she now naturally seemed to inhibit were plenty useful. They were things that the fourteen year old hadn't even considered doing. Small things, little details...but in the mafia, that could easily be her undoing.

And there was also the fact that their merging had force-started her flames.

The raven-haired girl had displayed earlier signs of her flames, just enough to know that she had them, but those had only been little outbursts. Nowhere near the untamed purity it was now.

A predatory smile graced the beautiful pre-teen's face as she brought her hand to eye-level, and willed a small ball of indigo fire to appear at her fingertips.

From Sarah's memories, she had witnessed several training regimes that the "Vongola gang" had undergone through the several "arcs" in the "anime".

Persephone would be a fool if she didn't put them to good use as well.

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**~O~**

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**Two years later... (time skip)**

In an extravagantly decorated ball room, a disguised brunette waved good-bye to the pretentious modern-day aristocrats she had been mingling with.

Veering to the right, she got as close to her target as possible, while making it seem as though she was just going to the ladies room.

Ten feet from Alfonso Herrera, a minor politician in Italy who had gone and shot his mouth off and offended the wrong people; and five feet from the restroom, the assassin made her move.

Skillfully creating an illusion to appear as though an older gentleman had bumped into an illusion of her and stroked up a conversation, the sixteen year old (though with how developed she was, she could easily be mistaken for nineteen at most), now cloaked in a thick layer of mist flames, silently and invisibly injected her target with the poison from within her hair clip.

The operation went off without a hitch. Herrera didn't even twitch to show he had felt it.

Smoothly replacing her illusionary self without anyone the wiser, the killer had her conjured gentleman bow and walk off into the crowd, dispersing into mist flames the instant he rounded the corner.

A plastered smile on her face, she calmly walked into the woman's restroom.

The poison would take effect in fifteen minutes, and Herrera would dead in twenty.

Un-strapping her purse, she reapplied her mascara and lipstick alongside three other girls.

Done, she smacked her lips and gave herself a once-over, touching up on her hair.

This took five minutes.

Humming while she reassembled her make-up, the assassin promptly left the restroom, weaving her way through the mass of rich people.

She was out of the building with ten minutes to spare.

She had hailed a cab in three minutes, and was about two miles away when her target fell dead.

Persephone let out a small smirk, hidden from the cab driver whose eyes were still on the road.

The amount she was getting paid for this mission was overpriced when one considered the ease it had been accomplished with, but the teenager supposed it was only fair considering she had been forced to interact with wealthy snobs.

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**~O~**

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**-Bosoligio Famiglia Interlude-**

"I still don't get it. Why would our boss entrust some freelancer brat with the Herrera mission?" A man complained to his friend.

The other snorted. "If I were you, I wouldn't call her that in her presence, man."

"Why?" the first one scoffed, "She was just some brat. Not even good enough to be associated with any families."

The other shook his head. "You idiot. She's more than good enough to be associated with_ any famiglia_. Hell, that's the reason that the boss paid so much for this mission. He wanted to sway her to ours."

The first man looked incredulous. "Why the hell would he want to do that?! The boss was probably just taking pity on the brat since he knows that a kid like that isn't going to last long in our world."

The other shot his companion a look. "She's an _A-ranked_ assassin. I think she'll be just fine." He said dryly.

The first man abruptly stopped in his tracks and stared at his friend.

"You're fucking with me." He declared, after a few seconds of silence.

The other shook his head in denial. "No, I'm serious. She's A-ranked. Didn't you notice who she was?"

The first man furrowed his brow. "No, I didn't see any symbols."

"Then you didn't look hard enough." The other told him. "She had a pair of wings made out of pure mist flames for a necklace."

The first man's eyes went wide. "B-But that would mean..."

The other nodded; glad he was finally getting it. "Yeah, you were just insulting the _Angel of Death._"

The first man paled.

The Angel of Death may not be S-class, but for someone who's only been in the underworld for four years, she was considered a prodigy for attaining A-rank already. Not to mention that her flame purity was rumored to be one of the highest, if the way she constantly hid herself with her flames was any indicator (even experienced mist users usually used cloaks to hide their appearance).

The constant stream of energy and the amount of control that it must take her to layer an illusion over herself, while still having enough power to fight and do missions, made her a celebrity in the mafia (as well as a source of bets).

And he—he had just insulted her.

Praying that nobody besides his friend (whom he had already threatened to keep quiet) had heard his rude comments about her, the first man kept his mouth firmly shut the entire way to the boss's office.

He could only hope that he didn't "mysteriously" die in his sleep tonight.

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**Author's Note:**

First off, thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! You people rock :)

Questions: So what do you think? Am I moving along too fast? Did I portray everything okay?

PM me or add any concerns or confusions you might have to your review.

Any upcoming ideas for missions would be appreciated as well.


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